I suppose I should weigh in on the most critical, important, burning story of the day, and possibly our times, just to show I heard about it. Of course, anybody who has a television, radio, computer, newspaper, tom-tom, or ESP heard about it. President says he's gonna ship thirty thousand more soldiers off to war, and the lead story? Tiger is up to seven ... no wait, eight -- hold on a second, nine ... ?
News? Good Lord, why anybody is surprised that a rich jock fools around is what is so amazing. Why ... that's never happened before! Can you even imagine!
And why he thought he had a prayer of getting away with it is only slightly less amazing. Man can't stick his head out a door without somebody snapping a picture of him. Them chickens have just been biding their time before they came home to roost.
The first rule in committing a perfect crime -- which is, as I'm sure I've mentioned before, is not one in which the authorities can't figure out who did it, but one in which nobody knows it ever even happened -- the rule is: Do it solo.
If you have a partner, there will always be somebody who can rat you out. If nobody knows you did it but you? You never confess, you were in De-troit when it happened, you stick to that story.
Of course, screwing around kinda requires that you have partners, doesn't it? And of course, none of the legion who boinked Tiger was ever going to say anything, them all being women of deep moral, intellectual, and spiritual substance, right?
Tiger might be dynamite on the golf course and maybe even aces in conjugal playing fields, but he's ot-nay oo-tay ight-bray when it comes to fooling around. Little head ruled, and all that money and fame made him think he wasn't gonna get caught. They all think that.
Can anybody say, "Bill Clinton?"
I understand that in Las Vegas, somebody came out with a T-shirt for women, said: I DIDN'T SLEEP WITH TIGER! It didn't do well -- couldn't find enough potential buyers, apparently.